


Dead on Arrival

by zinke



Series: United Federation of Kick-Ass Female Characters [3]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Castle, Sleepy Hollow (TV), The 100 (TV), The West Wing
Genre: Breaking the Fourth Wall, Crack, Gen, Satire, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 12:38:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6610957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zinke/pseuds/zinke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So let me see if I’ve got this straight: each of you is major female character. You’re all popular with the fan base, and your personal story arc is integral to the overall concept of your show. Except now you’re all dead?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dead on Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> Recent less-than-stellar events on television have led me to revive this long dormant series to poke a bit of fun. If you are not familiar with the other two works in the series, you might want to at least give the first a look before starting this one to give you some context.
> 
> Additionally, be warned that this pic contains spoilers through the most recent episodes of all these shows, and for media releases containing information about the future of these series (which may be considered spoilers for some of you out there). Long story short, this story is not for the spoiler-phobic.

*****

“What’s the emergency?” CJ Cregg demands, striding into the room. 

Kate Beckett eyes the other woman in confusion. “I thought Sam was on call this week.”

“Off-world emergency.” Dropping into the nearest chair, she tosses a small black object onto the conference room table. “So you’re stuck with me. Shoot.”

“Is that...a pager?” asks a petite African-American woman standing a step behind Beckett.

“Welcome to life in a pre-cellular era television drama. And you are?....”

“Special Agent Abbie Mills.”

“Ah, FBI. Scully refer you?”

Abbie nods.

“What about those two?”

Kate and Abbie turn to find two figures cloaked in shadow standing directly behind them. “We have no idea,” Kate says, reaching for her gun.

“Stop!” A young woman wearing heavily studded armor and war paint steps forward. “Laura Roslin of the Twelve Colonies sent me. I am Lexa kom Trikru and I am here because my fight should _not_ be over!”

CJ gives the Grounder Commander a cursory once over. “And her?”

Lexa casts a dismissive glance at the black leather-clad woman beside her. “This one calls herself Black Canary. I found her in the hallway, hiding behind a potted fern.”

“I was protecting your six,” the masked woman replies peevishly. “And it’s Laurel. Laurel Lance.”

“Right,” CJ says, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Is someone going to tell me why the hell all of you are here?”

“We’re dead.”

“Would that be in the literal or the metaphorical sense, Agent Mills?”

“Literal. Except for her,” she adds, hooking a thumb in Kate’s direction. 

“But I probably will be,” Kate interjects. “Soon.”

Her curiosity piqued, CJ straightens in her chair. “I don’t understand. What do you mean, ‘you probably will be’? Isn’t _Castle_ a show *about* you?”

“Apparently not anymore.”

“The same thing happened to me last month.” Abbie slides into one of the vacant chairs around the conference table. “When the series started, it was just me and Crane, fighting the forces of evil. Then-”

“Ohh. You’re _that_ Abbie Mills. With the hunky Revolutionary War hero as a partner.”

“How did you-.”

“I’m the White House Press Secretary. I know things.” CJ gives her an exaggerated royal wave. “Continue.”

Abbie eyes CJ warily for a moment before resuming her story. “Then they start adding all these supporting characters: my sister, Joe Corbin, Hawley, Danny Reynolds, Betsy Ross….”

“Betsy Ross?” Laurel whispers.

“Competing love interest,” CJ murmurs.

The Canary nods sympathetically. 

“I should have seen it coming. With so many other characters in the mix, I wasn’t getting as much screen time, my agency and sense of purpose was being stripped away. But I figured I was safe, what with my continued existence being somewhat integral to the premise of the show. Next thing I know? BOOM.” Abbie slaps her hand on the table, making the other women in the room flinch. “Dead.”

Kate is the first to recover. “How’d they do it?”

“Made me sacrifice myself to save the rest of humanity.”

“You died defending your people.” Lexa nods approvingly. “It was a good death.” 

“No. _No_ ; it was _not_ a good death,” Abbie snarls, jabbing her finger in Lexa’s general direction. 

“You think that’s bad,” Laurel cries, pulling off her mask and throwing it onto the floor, “they killed me off just as I was starting to get interesting!”

“Why would they do that?”

“How should I know?” She thinks for a moment before adding, “I did get a great deathbed goodbye scene, though.”

“My death lasted over two acts,” Lexa counters, looking just a little smug. 

“Congratulations.” CJ crosses her arms and sighs. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight: each of you is major female character on your respective shows. You’re all popular with the fan base, and your personal story arc is integral to the overall concept of the show. Except now you’re all dead?”

“Probably dead,” Kate chimes in. “For me, at least.”

“But the rest of you? Actually dead?”

Lexa, Abbie and Laurel nod.

“And none of your shows have been cancelled?”

“Not yet,” Abbie mutters.

“Well,” CJ leans back in her chair and crosses her arms. “That sucks.”

Lexa leans in, placing both palms flat against the conference table. “We believe that there may be ulterior motives at work.”

“You don’t say?” CJ mutters just as Buffy bounces in, coffee mug in hand. 

“Hi guys; what’s up?”

“They’re dead.”

“Oh! That happened to me a few times,” Buffy fills her mug with coffee, then reaches for the cream. “One time, they even bothered to bury me. Tombstone and everything. But I came back.”

“Really?” Laurel says, looking hopeful. 

“Really. I mean, it wasn’t nearly as easy as it sounds. I was still in the coffin when it happened, so I had to claw my way out, and fight a demon biker gang, and then there was the-”

“Nevermind,” Laurel mumbles, looking ashen.

“CJ, I don’t think you’re understanding the gravity of the situation we’re facing, here.” Kate looks at each woman in turn before continuing, “We’re being killed off one by one in favor of other, decidedly more mainstream lead characters.”

“Characters who are male.”

“White.”

“Straight.”

“Blonde.” Everyone turns to Laurel. “What? It’s true! The writers always did like Felicity better than me,” she pouts. 

“Anyway...” Abbie circles around, hands on her hips, to look CJ square in the eye. “Can you help us or not?”

“Nope.”

“I’m sorry; what?”

"She said,” Lexa hisses, dropping a hand to the hilt of her sword, “no.”

“Ladies, ladies,” CJ says, rising to place a staying hand on Lexa’s fist. “Listen to me. You’re dead; and last time I checked, necromancing was _not_ in my job description. Unless your television genre is soap opera, there’s no coming back from something like this.”

With a roar, Lexa breaks free of CJ’s grip, draws her sword and throws it across the room. It slams into the wall with a resounding thud, impaling the coffee maker. 

Stunned, Buffy watches as the appliance sparks futilely, the coffee from the shattered urn dripping to the floor. “Hey!”

CJ saunters over and pats Buffy on the shoulder. “Look, Wells and Schlamme may not have killed me off.” Grabbing hold of the sword, CJ gives it a good yank, dislodging it from the wall. “But I’m a character from a show that’s been off the air since 2006 and I am here to tell you; life after your show _is_ possible.”

Lexa eyes CJ suspiciously. “How?” 

“Join us. Become part of the Federation.” CJ considers the sword in her hands, then swings it expertly in a quick riposte and coupe before offering it, hilt first, to the Commander. “Help me make sure that what happened to you doesn’t happen to any more strong, dynamic female leads.”

“It’s super fun!” Buffy chimes in from across the room. “Plus, we’ve had jackets made!”

“My idea,” Kate whispers to Laurel, who nods approvingly in response.

Lexa studies CJ for a moment, then sheathes her sword. “I will accept your terms, CJ kom...Politikru.”

“Yeah,” Abbie stands and claps her hands together. “Me too.”

“All right! Team Lady Power!” Laurel exclaims.

CJ groans. “No way. No cutesy names. We’ve got standards.”

“Fine,” Laurel concedes, albeit grudgingly. Her expression brightens a beat later. “What about a book club?”

“Yes!” Buffy hurries over to Laurel’s side. “This is what I have been saying for months! I’ve started a petition - wanna help?”

“Absolutely! Which book were you thinking of for the first meeting?”

“Have you ever heard of ‘Twilight’?”

Nodding enthusiastically, Laurel grabs her mask and follows Buffy out of the room.

“Well, that all seems fine,” CJ remarks blithely. 

“If you say so,” Abbie says skeptically. 

“Can we get to the part with the ass kicking, now?” Lexa huffs impatiently. 

CJ’s lips curl into a cheshire grin. “Absolutely. Let’s go.”

 

*fin.*


End file.
